Friday, February 27, 2004

Oh Geneva My Girl

Okay, okay, I admit, I'm on a complete NYQUIL KILL-ME-NOW high. Just half out of my feverish brain. My throat -- I wish I could describe it -- feels like some very narrow, rigid garden hose -- not good at all and everytime I swallow I think maybe it will just stop working -- feels like I'm swallowing sand, not saliva -- and did they call it saliva so you know if you've got some you're still ALIVA? My cough sounds delightful like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together in a rugby brawl. Dry, rough, not good.

Anyway, I gathered enough girl power this morning to call Sprint and actually pay them -- they have a nasty habit of expecting you to pay them or they turn your phone off -- and I was kindof liking the thing OFF -- it's a rude little thing, ringing or beeping or vibrating at the most inconvenient times. And I was wondering if I even really wanted to stick with Sprint now that your phone number, as well as your fingers can do the walking.

So I called Sprint and this nice woman answers and I ask her what her name is and she says her name is Geneva and that's a stopper for a person like me with a weird name and I said, "What a beautiful name. Have you ever been there?" And I instantly knew I shouldn't have asked because she sounded like someone stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again.

Geneva said, "Where?"

"Geneva," I said.

She laughed like it was the weirdest idea in the world to actually stop being a Sprint Customer Service Representative and get on a plane to Geneva, "No, never been there," she said.

"You should go, save your money," I said, "or get a guy to take you there."

We were definately off script, I could tell by her nervous pauses.

"Listen Geneva, I just paid my bill electronically with your phone system and then I watched as you guys sucked it out of my bank account -- I saw it -- right here on my computer, it took like, I don't know, like 12 seconds, it was so fast, you wouldda loved it, but then you guys are saying I have to wait 12 hours for my service to be restored -- what's the deal? 12 seconds to take my money, 12 hours to get service. Not fair, what can you do for me, Geneva?"

She was mumbling something ... something like, "Up to 12 hours, sometimes it can be faster." I could tell she was up to something, something she wasn't supposed to be doing, but still reading from the script.

It's a girl thing -- I knew she was flipping a switch or clicking a box or something, I could tell -- girl intuition. I backed down. Everyone hassles her all day long, I figured.

So I say, "Hey, Geneva, thanks for your help and have a great day." And she perked up, "You too." And I know just by the way she said it, that it wasn't on the script.

I hung up. I looked at my phone.

I looked at my stored numbers.

I punched a button -- the thing dialed -- my friend answered -- WAY TO GO GENEVA!